


Welcome to Café Europa!

by BittersweetBiscotti



Series: From Icarus's Grimoire [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Found Family, Gen, Heartwarming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28263741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BittersweetBiscotti/pseuds/BittersweetBiscotti
Summary: Khavi is a Lightless civilian. There isn't much he can do in the seemingly eternal fight against the Darkness. But he can make coffee. So he takes on an ambitious business venture to expand his family's café business to Europa, because if there is any place that needs warm drinks, it's that desolate moon of eternal winter.Khavi may not be a Guardian, but he is a Barista. Sometimes it is the little things, just a little spark of Light, that make all the difference between hope and despair.
Series: From Icarus's Grimoire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072238
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Welcome to Café Europa!

Steam drifted from the heat of his suit as Khavi landed on the snowy surface of Europa, his foot stepping on the surface that didn't belong to the Earth for the first time in his life. The atmosphere was thin and rich with oxygen, surprisingly breathable, if not for the high risk of radiation sickness.

“In the beginning, there was only water,” he muttered to himself as his green eyes took in the eternal winter that surrounded him.

Small plants had finally broken through the ice-crust, plants that, after so much trial and error, had finally evolved to Europa’s unique specifications with their stony bark shining like obsidian and crystalline seeds. Occasionally, one heard a scuffle and a scratch and a flutter that were not of an enemy's movements from deep within the much warmer caves. Europa teemed with life in her own way, though most of it stayed within the warmth of her body like pregnancy. 

The terraforming from the Golden Age provided Europa with enough gasses to thicken the atmosphere, but it would still take many, many more millennia from now before life, natural life, would emerge from the rocky womb to inhabit the surface.

It stunned Khavi that after the devastation of the Collapse, such terraforming on certain planets and moons were enough to jumpstart a natural evolution long after those colonies had been utterly destroyed. Even with the Traveler so severely damaged, life was returning to the Sol system.

Take those implications as you will.

Of course, all this effort was moot if the Darkness completely destroyed it all.

Khavi shivered when he looked up at the sky and immediately noticed Io’s unnerving absence. So many planets and moons, swallowed away without warning. And there was not much anyone could do about that. Except the Guardians, maybe. But Khavi was not a Guardian. Just a simple man of only twenty-four years with a single purpose.

Even so, he’d like to believe he could make a difference. In his own small way. Much like the tiny plants poking through the ice, plants that may one day grow to enrich the atmosphere with thick gasses, purifying the radiation and trapping the heat emitting from the caves far below. The snows would melt, and floods would carve canyons and mountains in the wake of their devastation. The chaos would draw up more heat from the moon's core in a dance of fire and water. Conditions that would prepare this moon mother for birth.

Ironically enough, Khavi would make a difference here using plants of his own. Specifically, beans and leaves.

His boots crunched through the thick snow as he marched to the icy building several meters ahead, once a part of a great research facility, now breaking down with neglect. An ancient mess hall. Perfect. Guardians paid him little mind as they went about their business. Khavi thought he would stand out more than this given his lack of armor. Civilians had suits of their own, and this plain thing only kept him from dying of radiation sickness and frostbite while high from too much oxygen. Not to mention, it took a lot of convincing Zavala the Vanguard Commander to permit him to leave the City at all.

He supposed Guardians really did have a lot on their minds. Even the odd presence of a Lightless civilian very far away from home didn't make much of a note.

Despite being told about the Fallen Scribe who resided here, Khavi was still staggered upon seeing him. Variks the Loyal, they called him. Currently, the scribe was too engrossed discussing some matters with a fireteam, so Khavi wandered around the huge room to see what all he would be working with here.

Yes, this had indeed once been a mess hall, perhaps even a recreational center given all the dead consoles. The huge room led to a patio that wrapped around most of the building, a place meant for socializing. It was amusing and kind of surreal to see a “Caution: Wet Floor” sign sitting in the middle of the floor as if a custodian had just mopped up for the day.

This was better than he imagined. His heart raced with excitement that his dream truly had the conditions in place to become reality.

Convincing his parents had been the first step. Convincing the Vanguard had been the second. All he needed to do now was convince the Eliksni who had made this building his.

The fireteam left without acknowledging the lone civilian waffling around the room, but Variks noticed him the moment his attention had been freed. Four glowing blue eyes peered at him intently, and then he chittered with greeting.

“Ah, you must be the one from the City,” Variks chirped in a garbled voice, words skittering after each other like insects. “The ba…” He paused, clicking with thought. “Ba — _chitchitchit_ — Ria? Basta?”

“Barista,” Khavi clarified.

“Bariiiisssssta, _chitchitchitchit,”_ Variks echoed, as if testing the word. “Yesss. That one.”

Khavi had been a barista back in his parents’ café business in the Tower Bazaar before he started out with his own ambitions. He was kind of a one-man show at the moment, handling every affair a business entailed by himself. If all went all, he would not be on his own in this any longer. 

“Like I said in our correspondence earlier,” Khavi began, “I plan on turning this place into a café. With such a cold climate, it will be great for the Guardians to find respite from their assignments, a place to relax and warm the chill from their bones without needing to travel all the way back to the Last City.”

While the suits kept Guardians and civilians alike from instantly freezing to death on this wintery moon, just looking at all that snow and ice made one _feel_ cold.

“I still do not understand what a _chitchitchit_ café is, _chitchitchitchitchit,”_ Varisk admitted, and even his shoulders slumped a little with helplessness.

Khavi felt himself growing quickly more comfortable. Variks had a soft and gentle way of speaking, the slow emphasis on each English word he tried to grasp complimenting the almost pleasant insect chittering. It was impressive, actually. Khavi knew all too well that English could take some getting used to with its inconsistent grammar rules, and it felt little like the native tongue of his own Mediterranean heritage. To find commonality with a Fallen was something he never would have expected or believed.

“Well,” he began, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he thought up a good explanation that would be easy for the scribe to understand. “Simply put, it’s a place that sells coffee. I mean, it sells more than coffee, like tea and sometimes pastries. People order what they want to eat and pay currency, what we use to trade for services — “

He had been rambling out of nerves, but stopped short when those four eyes narrowed at him. “I know how commerce works, _chitchitchit,”_ Variks snapped. “We Eliksni have had many such business establishments, vendors and traders, _chitchichitchitchit_ merchants that once collected beautiful and rare treasures from all over our star system.”

Khavi blushed with embarrassment, the heat trapped in his helmet making his skin sweat and his curly dark brown hair stick to his brown forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I was thoughtless and insulted you.”

Variks visibly relaxed his grip on his staff and waved one of his smaller hands. “One day, the Eliksni _chitchitchit_ will remember that we are much more than what we have become. _Chitchitchit,_ understanding is all I request of you. Now, _chitchitchit,_ what is this coffee of which you speak?”

“Right!” Khavi placed his heavy pack on a nearby counter, taking out a small grinder. He supposed he could have pre-made the brew and placed it in a thermos, but that would be cheating. Coffee had a certain process to it he enjoyed sharing, and coffee was always best served fresh.

Variks watched him with great interest, and Khavi explained the origins of coffee and its uses as he set up his equipment for his live demonstration. “The ultimate purpose of coffee is to give us humans energy for the day, so we usually drink it in the morning,” he said, pouring beans into the grinder. “But it can also be enjoyable in the evening after dinner.”

Variks nodded. _“Chitchitchit,_ sounds like the red nectar from the forests of our world long, long ago _chitchitchit,_ we would drink it to clear our minds and restore vitality.”

“Exactly.”

The thin air rang with the sound of beans grinding into fine, fine grains. Khavi was grateful the electricity had been turned back on, or this negotiation might not go so smoothly. He was not that great at explaining things, not without something visual for him to make his point where words sometimes failed.

“Even though there is only one way to make coffee,” he said over the sharp sound, “by grinding and filtering the beans, its flavor can complement many additives to suit anyone’s taste.”

“Fascinating, _chitchitchit.”_

“Some people like coffee’s natural bitter taste, but others might add things like cream and sugar to make it much sweeter.”

All four of Variks’s eyes went wide and shimmered with excitement, and he chittered rapidly. “Sweet??? Yes, YES, _chitchitchitchitchitchit!!!_ Yes, we Eliksni _chitchitchit_ **love** the taste of sweet! The red nectar was the sweetest in our system. Ahhhh, _chitchitchit,_ how I miss the taste of sweet. Perhaps the Eliksni would better face reason if they tasted sweet once again.”

His chitter dropped from somewhere in his torso, and Khavi realized that this must be his way of laughing. A smile came over him, even if his helmet hid it.

“Well, you are in luck, because coffee can be made very sweet,” Khavi told him happily. Variks trembled as if barely able to contain himself but determined to do so because of his good manners.

Khavi had wanted to start Variks with hazelnut, one of the lighter roasts, and was glad he had chosen wisely. Sweetening a darker roast took a bit more finesse considering the heavier flavor, and he only had the most basic ingredients in his pack.

Steam rose in a soft cloud when the drink was poured into a mug. Khavi couldn’t wait for this building to be fully functional with heat and proper ventilation so that the Guardians could take off their helmets and breathe in the warm scent of fresh brew.

“Even the smell is rather sweet _chitchitchit,”_ Variks remarked. Eliksni could apparently breathe just fine on Europa. Khavi had once read in school that the Fallen could adapt to any environment with very little technological help, which made them so formidable.

“Oh, just wait. You’re gonna like this.”

Khavi opened a small jar of vanilla sugar cubes, and Variks’s eyes glistened with wonder as the human stirred several cubes into the coffee. Then he added some cinnamon and a little bit of honey.

Or rather, the equivalents to sugar, cinnamon, and honey. All three of these particular ingredients had come from Nessus, a minor planet vibrant with life despite the presence of the Vex. Earth still had a long, long way along the path of recovery from the Collapse, facing threats every day, so the Vanguard wanted all her limited resources available only to the Last City. Fortunately, Nessus provided many suitable substitutes.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he warned as he handed the mug to Variks.

Variks held the mug in his two lower hands, gently tapping his fingers against the pale ceramic. Then he brought it to his mouth.

Suddenly, Variks made this high-pitched screech that rang in Khavi’s ears.

“Variks, are you okay!?” Alarm surged through him, terrified he had somehow harmed the Eliksni scribe. Perhaps he made the coffee too hot? That would be so terrible!

Then Variks began chittering rapidly, staring at Khavi with two sets of very wide eyes, waving his upper hand, notably the hand holding the large staff. At least, he didn’t seem hurt.

“Uhhh…” Khavi began, realizing that Variks must be talking to him in the Eliksni tongue, actually. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Oh! Beg you pardon, _chitchitchitchit,”_ Variks replied. “I was just _chitchitchitchit_ so excited. _Chitchitchitchitchit!_ This is most delicious! Warm. _Chitchitchit!_ **Sweeeeeeet.** _Chitchitchit!_ We Eliksni care little for cold, and Europa is not agreeable. This climate makes us sluggish and slow. _Chitchitchit._ And yet Eramis brought us here, caring not for our discomfort.” He hit the ground with his staff a few times in frustration.

Khavi flinched, and Variks relaxed. “Apologies, again, my friend. _Chitchitchit._ My people have suffered so much already and yet are still exploited, rendered dependent and desperate.”

“I’m so sorry,” Khavi said softly. “I didn’t realize this place was so miserable for you.” In fact, he just now noticed the heat lamp glowing from the console that Variks stood close to.

The Eliksni scribe shook his head. “No need. My place is here. So long as the Eliksni continue to suffer, I am where I’m meant to be, _chitchitchit._ And if you continue to provide me with these warm _chitchitchit_ sweet drinks _chitchitchit,_ my stay will be far more pleasant.”

Khavi nearly gasped out loud, quickly growing as giddy as Variks had been a minute ago. “So you are in agreement then? You will let me turn this building into a café?”

Variks nodded, eyes gleaming. “Yes, _chitchitchit,_ we have an agreement. I look forward to see what you will do with this place, _chitchitchit.”_ And he took another sip from his mug with a chitter of contentment.

* * *

Building the café took much work over the next month, but it didn’t take nearly as long as Khavi first thought. A survey of the building declared that it sill had solid foundations, and was in excellent condition despite needing some superficial repairs and upgrades. Leave it to Clovis Bray to have the insight to make buildings that would withstand the test of time. Variks had moved upstairs which had now been revamped to cozy housing quarters with all the soft comforts Earth could provide. The Eliksni scribe further appreciated that he was able to sleep much more comfortably than he had in very, very long time. 

“Oh? It’s open now?”

It was late that Europan night just a few short months after Khavi’s negotiation with Variks. Khavi had assigned himself for the late shift first so that his employees, including one of his older brothers and his younger sister, could get used to this new world they now lived in more naturally. He could have easily assigned robots to serve coffee, especially during the late shifts, but the thing about a café was the charm of a human touch.

“Welcome,” he greeted with a bright smile from the counter. He placed fresh pastries into the case. You'd never know when a hungry Guardian came in after a vigorous Vex hunt.

Three Guardians had walked into the café when one of them, a Warlock, expressed her surprise. No longer an abandoned mess hall, the building where Variks usually met with the Guardians was warm with tables and soft chairs and art decorating the walls. Gentle music mixed with soft strings and nature sounds playing from the overhead speakers invited one to relax and vibe for an hour or two. A long counter had been built into the wall for Guardians who wanted to work without disturbance. Plush armchairs and sofas surrounded round tables for Guardians who wanted to be more social. Small tables with only two chairs lined another wall, meant for couples who wanted more privacy. Romance wasn't common among Guardians, considering the chaos of their lives, but you'd never know. 

“Khavi? Is that you?”

The Warlock removed her helmet, the piece of armor dematerializing to reveal her astonished face. An Awoken with black hair parted to her left, blue-gray skin, and wide golden eyes. “Ah, Icarus! It’s been a while!” Khavi exclaimed happily once he recognized her. “It's been so long! Two years now? How’s Luna been treating you?”

“The Hive is still gross, but not anything I can’t handle,” Icarus replied as the two embraced.

“Good, good. My mother misses you. She’s glad you’ll be able to get a fresh cup from our shop again.”

Then Khavi’s gaze turned to the massive EXO Titan. “Hey, Atara! You won’t have to travel all the way back to just the Tower to get fresh grounds anymore. Although, my parents will miss talking with you about your adventures. You and Icarus seem to get into some doozies.”

“Please send them my warmest regards,” Atara-7 replied politely. “It may be some time before I can go back to the Tower.”

“Oh?”

“Big mission!” Atara-7’s Ghost, a bright pink thing covered in tiny razor points, suddenly piped up from her shoulder.

“Ah, I see, I see."

He noticed the third Guardian, no taller than Icarus, standing close behind Atara-7 as if using her massive frame for a shield. The Hunter wore all black, with a strange white symbol on the front of their cloak that reminded Khavi of a spider. Their helmet was still on, and they haven't spoken a word. "And who’s this? Your fireteam finally got a Hunter, huh?” 

“Hey, go on. It’s okay,” Icarus encouraged the Hunter. “No one’s here. And Khavi is a friend so you can trust him. I remember when he was just a kid six years ago, when his parents built the first café in the Tower.”

"I was eighteen," Khavi protested with a snort. "Hardly a kid." 

The Hunter hesitated before finally letting the helmet dematerialize. Under the hood that remained in place was the face of a handsome young Awoken. In fact, Khavi realized with a shock, he looked just like Icarus. Only his black hair parted in the opposite direction with streaks of silver. And like Icarus, he couldn't have been older than nineteen when he was reborn. 

The tragic implication of the younger faced Guardians would never cease to be heartbreaking.

“Hi. I’m Crow,” the Hunter said softly with a slight wave of his hand.

“Icarus! You have a _brother?”_ Khavi was so stunned by how much these two Awoken looked alike that he spoke without thinking.

Icarus, knowing he meant no ill intent, laughed. “Yeah,” she said, pulling Crow forward and slapping her arm around his shoulders. The way he slouched a bit, almost timidly, made it an easy reach for her. “Yeah, he is! _My little brother!”_ She grinned widely. “And Atara is the older sister having to put up with us.”

Atara-7 sighed deeply with an exaggerated fall of her shoulders and a shake of her head. “She has her work cut out for her,” her Ghost giggled.

They all shared a laugh, even Crow with his shy chuckles. The warmth generated by the brand spanking new ventilation system could not compare to the warmth of mirth and family. True, it made Khavi miss home, made him miss his parents and the rest of his siblings who did not join him here, but there was still family to be found even this deep into space. Europa was not as desolate and cold as she appeared, after all.

“Pick whatever you’d like, Crow,” Atara-7 said, waving him toward the counter. 

“Um…” He stared at the digital menu hanging above Khavi’s head, looking rather overwhelmed, then pointed to a picture. “That one.”

Icarus snorted. “Cocoa? You really are like a child.”

“What? It looks good,” Crow shot back, coming more to life because of her teasing. “And I really like dark chocolate.”

“Three large Dark Europa Night cocoas, please,” Atara-7 said, taking Glimmer out of her pocket. “Extra whipped cream and barista chips for the two children.”

“I wanted coffee,” Icarus protested.

_“You_ absolutely do _not_ need coffee,” Atara-7 shot back. Crow gave Icarus a smug smirk, and the Warlock stuck her tongue out at him.

“You’re a great older sister,” Khavi remarked as he rang up the order on the small tablet in his hands. It was a replica of ancient technology, named for a fruit, that was making a resurgence in popularity due to its slim style and cute colors. 

The EXO went quiet a moment. “Well, I have a bit of experience, I guess,” she finally said softly with a shrug.

“And I’m the second older sister!” Icarus piped up.

“Which makes you the middle child, whom we all know doesn’t matter,” Crow teased with a shit-eating grin. He laughed when Icarus leapt onto his back like a bloodthirsty lemur and knocked them both to the floor.

“Break it up, you two, or no cocoa,” Atara-7 warned as the pair wrestled around each other, Icarus trying to suffocate Crow with his own hood.

“She will drink all three of them herself,” her Ghost added. _“Slowly. In front of you.”_

Atara-7 considered. “Yes, actually. I will.”

The pair stood up and brushed the dust off their clothes. Crow sharply nudged Icarus’s shoulder. She snapped her boot against his ankle.

"Nerd."

"Idiot."

“They truly do act like siblings, don’t they?” Khavi said with a laugh over the loud sound of steaming milk. Two of his older siblings were actually a set of twins. You would think no one would be able to get along more than twins, but the opposite was more common. No one got into _pettier_ arguments than twins.

“It’s a bit of a nightmare sometimes,” Atara-7 admitted, but her helmet could not hide the smile in her voice.

Khavi wasn’t about to complain. They were such a lively little fireteam, their spark lighting up the otherwise dark Europan night. It was nice to see Icarus finally had someone who matched her intense personality. And Atara-7 seemed much more talkative and less aloof, which would please Khavi's mother greatly. After serving them, he settled at their table to catch up on everything two of his favorite Guardians had been up to these past couple of years, especially how they found their new little brother who finally completed their team.

Outside, an eternal winter wind howled with rage as snow and ice pelted mercilessly against the world in another one of Europa’s snowstorms. But none of the chill could be felt in this warm little light glowing through the thick fog.

Exactly just how Khavi imagined it would be.

The Guardians did so much protecting their City and the entire Sol system despite the astronomical odds thrown against them. But who was taking care of them? If even in some small way.

Khavi might not have the abilities and invulnerabilities of Guardians, he might not be able to change things in some significant way and look super cool doing it. It was fine because he wasn’t a Guardian.

He was a barista. And such little things a Lightless civilian like him were only capable of doing could make all the difference.

The snowstorm subsided, and the fog lifted to reveal Jupiter slowly gliding across the clear star-studded Europan sky in all its breathtaking majesty.

Let there be Light. And so it was.

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because I entertained the idea of writing a Destiny Coffee Shop AU and then I was like "But it doesn't have to be an AU tho?" Europa looks cold, and I feel cold whenever I visit. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this fic! Happy Dawning and Happy Holidays! May you find warmth and light despite the darkness in even some small way. As always, you can talk to me about Destiny things @ vampireharker (Twitter) and bittersweetbiscotti (tumblr).


End file.
